The Five Times Daryl Dixon was Hugged
by MiathoL
Summary: And the one time he hugged back.
1. Carl

**First of all, these are NOT in chronological order. **

**Also, this is my first Walking Dead fic, and first time formatting a story this way, so please give me a little credit. **

**1.**

Daryl Dixon is not one for children. They are loud, annoying, needy, and always oozing some sort of ooze. He did his best to stay away from them, except that didn't always work, since at the end of the world, there was two—one, in his group.

Carl wasn't so bad. He wanted to be taken more seriously by the group, and often went around asking if he could be taught skills by other members. On a better day, Daryl chuckled as he refused to teach Carl how to shoot his crossbow. The kid reminded him of himself, when he was young, just absolutely desperate to hold his own in a world that was out to kill you.

As for the other, Sophia, she was a little wallflower. Of course Daryl knew she existed, they just never spoke, and he barely saw her. Ed forbade her speaking to either of the Dixon brothers. Merle was an understandable ban, and Daryl didn't mind not having to babysit, but he still felt like people were confusing him for heartless instead of just a hard ass. Sophia, too, reminded him of himself, when he was coping with abuse and no escape. And then she had to run off, like the idiot child she was and get herself bit. Everyone knew it, but no one wanted to say it.

Why he looked so hard, he isn't sure. He said to Carol it was because no one looked for Merle, but Merle was a dick whom no one cared for. Did he do it because he was worried about Sophia? Did he do it for Carol? Did he actually only do it because he had nothing else to do?

He had no idea. But if Daryl Dixon was anything, sentimental was not it. He didn't care (too much) it just happened. Survival of the fittest.

At least, that's how he gets himself to sleep.

But it is harder for the rest of the group. Carol says she gave up a long time ago, but she still hurts. Carl lost his only friend, and shamelessly cries to his mother. Andrea can relate, having lost Amy, and the group in whole lost her. They are a family, and it is too small and weak to take any more hits.

In the days after the barn massacre, and the funeral, there was an air of solidarity and sadness. Nobody really knew what to do. Herschel wanted them gone, but he couldn't just throw them out, not like this.

Carl was never seen. Often out begging to be taken with a search party, he vanished. Daryl overheard Lori talking about how he was inside the house, learning what he could from Herschel, to take his mind off from her.

They really need to give that kid some credit.

Daryl, being the kindest hard ass around, decided to make Carl useful.

Grabbing his crossbow, he made his way into the house. Maggie pointed upstairs and found Carl studying Herschel's vet gear.

"Hey, kid. C'mere, let's go get us some squirrels." Herschel smiled and excused himself. Carl placed the things back in their places in his bag.

"No thanks, Daryl. I can clean them when you come back, though." The boy spoke soft and sad.

"Just get downstairs. Let's get you shooting this thing." He nudged the bow with his shoulder and Carl's eyes lit up. It's been awhile since he has smiled that large. Daryl rolled his eyes and turned to lead out of the room when he was pulled back by the tiny arms around his waist. His eyes bulged as he looked down to see Carl's hands clenched in a death grip, with his head pressing into the older man's back.

"Kid, g'off me." He tried to shake free but was held back by Carl's death-hug.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for looking for her. No one would let me go, but you were out every day and you brought back her doll and you helped me and carol and mom and everyone and thank you and I'm sorry Andrea shot you, but thank you anyway because she was my friend and thank you." By the end of his little tangent, Carl was in tears, but not really sobbing. More like sniffling into Daryl's shirt. Daryl huffed and pulled out from him. When he spun around, Carl was wiping his eyes with his hand and was gesturing out the door with his hands.

"I'm sorry, let's go." Carl pushed him out and downstairs. Daryl said nothing, and Carl rushed past him outside, tears gone and ready to finally get to use the weapon.

Neither ever brought it up again. Carl really does deserve more respect than he gets.


	2. Rick

**I was hoping this was going to be a one-shot, but that last chapter got too long, so I figured why not. **

**2.**

Rick Grimes had been through a lot, and a lot is a serious understatement.

The man woke from a coma into this dead world, made his way to Atlanta with no idea of what's out there, actually survived his first herd, and was reunited with his wife and child shortly after escaping.

He's more like the luckiest bastard ever, but luck only goes so far.

They got into the CDC, at least learned nothing was left anywhere, and then left (without Jacqui) into the unknown. It was all smooth sailing to the Fort when Sophia ran, and they had to stop and search.

No one minded searching, it had to be done and no one would be leaving anyone to the walkers.

Until Carl got shot, and then the ordeal with the barn and the farm and walkers and every single other stressor that no one person should deal with, Rick was doing okay. They got through winter in one piece, but then again, winter is Georgia is a joke, but nobody looked a gift horse in the mouth. They were alive, and that's what mattered.

Then they got to the prison, clearing out the yard and the block with a very pregnant Lori, proved to be easier than expected. A mishap here, a herd there, and then they had security. Finally a safe enough place to deliver the baby!

Until Lori, Maggie and Carl got separated from the group after the herd stormed the Bastille. They made it to the boiler room, but it was too late for the baby, and for Lori. Maggie's impromptu Cesarean wasn't enough to save her. But the baby did.

And then Rick, (who can blame him?) went off the wall and just wrecked walker after walker after walker. Finally ending up in the boiler room, and deluding himself into thinking there was a caller and a safe place and hope.

He didn't know how much the rest of the group was sticking their necks out for him. Carol, T-Dog and Lori; 1/3 of their group, gone in a day. It was hard for everyone, but someone needed to step up. It was Daryl who went for the formula, and it was Daryl who held and fed and made certain the little ass kicker was alright.

He barely surrendered that baby. He was sad about the losses in their group as much as the next person, but this is war and not a time for pity parties, and damn it all he was going to save this life.

When he made certain the group was mentally stable enough to be holding the frail little peanut, he handed off the baby.

When Rick came back, he was a mess. Understandable, but still Daryl couldn't help but be a little peeved that he abandoned his son and daughter when they needed him most. In one of his lower moments, Daryl thought that if he grieved like that when Merle vanished, the group would probably have starved until he could get back on his feet. Embarrassed for even thinking that, Daryl shook the thought from his mind and just decided on doing as much as he could, whatever, whenever, for whoever, when he could.

He owes that much to the group. If it means step up and be the honorable man Carol thinks he is, so be it. Rick still had that title, but honor was something everyone had, regardless of them showing it or not.

Daryl didn't expect any thanks, he was just here to help, so he was more than surprised when Rick pulled him aside to thank him for his help with the baby.

So surprised, he barely understood what Rick was saying, nobody ever properly thanked him for anything! He mumbled out a response that dripped with lack of confidence, when Rick pulled him into a hug.

Daryl stiffened, and he was sure Rick felt it too, but didn't pull off. People were scattered about, but no one looked twice. Rick held him firm and mumbled a few words of thanks into Daryl's tattered poncho, and shifted uncomfortably when a tear of Rick's dropped down his shirt.

Suddenly aware that Daryl was uncomfortable, he released him and clapped him on the shoulder, with nothing in his eyes suggesting he was crying.

Daryl wasn't sure how he pulled that off. Only yesterday he was moaning and wailing on the ground in sorrow. But whatever. It was done, and Rick was back and that was exactly what the group needed.


	3. Andrea

**All these chapters are done, I'm just staggering the upload because I'm too busy with half a dozen other fics. Wow, some stress, huh?**

**The timeline is admittedly a bit off, it will work with what I'm building. Can you guess what that is? A Daryl hug? Cookie for you, genius. **

**3.**

Andrea is a fighter, or so she would like to think. She may have had to kill her sister, but that is not strength, that is responsibility to the rest of the team. She took up an interest in guns, just after her interest in suicide, which was more cowardice than strength. She expects and demands perfection with herself, not really caring who she hurts along the way trying to achieve it. On better days, she expects that from the rest of the team, but most of the time that causes conflict.

There is nothing more than these people can give. They are giving it their all, trying their best and hardly surviving.

She was one of the first to give up on Sophia. She wanted out. Out from the group, the search, this life. Everything. Tired people are dangerous. That's when she turned to Shane.

Shane wanted out, too. He was fed up with the humanity these people had and was ready to make it on his own. Overhearing him and Lori, Andrea figured this was her ticket out.

They never left, but both Shane and Lori continued to grow. They grew together as Shane became wicked and she careless.

She was merciless in her words, her actions and often left people upset. She was becoming an outcast, of sorts, and she thought so too. Her desperate attempt to be like Shane was lost when she didn't know if she liked him or wanted to be like him. Maybe both, maybe neither. Maybe she just didn't care.

She gave up on the search for Sophie at the farm. Hope was lost, why fight the inevitable?

As she got better with her guns, she started taking watch. Walkers were so few and far between, nobody really minded handing her that rifle. She wasn't actually going to use it.

But she was cocky, and didn't like taking shit from anyone, so when Daryl walked out of the forest as far gone as he was, it was fair to take him as a walker, but everyone told her not to shoot.

Of course she did. It would be harsh to call her an idiot, but she jeopardized the entire group by going against what the entire group was saying.

As the men were rushing toward the walker, they were all a bit taken aback to find it Daryl. No harm done! Let's go inside and care for your wounds! You sound Sophia's doll? Lovely!

She pulled the trigger. Good think she's as cocky as she is. She missed and skimmed Daryl's head.

Realizing her mistake she rushed after them, but the men were already toting Daryl into the the house as fast as they could.

Herschel tended to him, and Andrea was in distress, she went to sit downstairs and waited until she got the okay to go see him.

She raced up the steps and into the room and found Daryl standing in the doorframe to the bathroom, with one hand on his hip and the other holding the frame above him. Before he had even time to respond, she was threading her arms underneath his and holding onto his shoulders. She lost it and was crying too hard to be clear.

Daryl rolled his head back, along with his eyes and conked Andrea on the head. She was on her tip-toes resting her head on the nape of his neck. He winced at the jab to where the bullet grazed him and Andrea froze.

"I just keep hurting you! I'm so sorry! I should have listened!" Daryl didn't say anything, just waited for her to be finished, and gave his trademark huff when tears began to roll down his shirtless back. His head rolled forward this time, and only now could Andrea sense his disdain.

"I'm bothering you! I'm sorry! So sorry, Daryl! I'll go." And without another word or look, Andrea ran from the room.

She wasn't even this emotional the rest of the time, dammit! Why does everyone come crying and hugging to him!

Is it really so hard? Don't look, touch, talk or think about Daryl. None of that, no conflict.

Women. All of them.


	4. Merle

**Please go easy on me with Merle, since I decided to take a bolder route for this, and if you're a fan of Merle, I would like to apologize for this chapter. Background info: Daryl has been thinking about this for a while, and he does what he does for the good of the group. Well that's a spoiler like no other.  
**

**If they hug in the show, I swear I'm going to be pissed. Daryl is not supposed to hug him back, dammit!**

**Also, in addressing a guest reviewer, I was going to do Glenn, but literally nothing came to mind. I wanted to do more guys, but it just did not fit their character. I tried to think of a situation, but couldn't. Would you rather have something forced or something that addressed a notable moment? That's just my opinion, but I hope you liked Rick's chapter! :) **

**4. **

Merle was supposed to be dead. Well, not _dead_ dead, like walker-bait dead. He hacked off his own hand, likely had trouble stopping the bleeding and even just getting out of Atlanta! Rick and Daryl and the others in the rescue team were surprised as hell to see he wasn't there. Merle was as good as dead. Daryl, naturally, was upset. Even though they didn't get along as well as they could have, they still were brothers and only were holding onto each other during these dark times.

But Merle was only holding Daryl back. Merle said not to trust the group, they it was really them who were holding back the brothers. It was almost like Carol and Ed's situation, where Merle was the one who told Daryl what to do.

That was not a decent comparison. Daryl was strong. Carol was not.

That's why he didn't bother looking for Merle. After Ed died, Carol broke from her shell and became a regular contributor to the group, and a joy to be around. Daryl didn't need people hating him based on how his brother acted. But they did, and no one said anything, but it took quite a while for both Daryl and the team to start thinking otherwise. It made a world of difference when he was the one who looked hardest for Sophia.

If Merle saw that, he would have spat in his brother's face and laughed.

"You're going soft on me! Dixon men ain't soft!" Along with every name under the sun.

Daryl tried his best to not let down the groups, but at the same time, managing to be reclusive to prevent hopes from rising, which is silly since he was the last to give up on the girl.

But as they made their way to the little town Michonne was talking about, he had no idea what to expect.

_Flashbang here, here, and here. Shoot that guard there to redirect attention then climb over the wall by those trees there. _

It was hardly a plan, but this was Glenn and Maggie we were talking about. No way they were being abandoned.

With a count, Rick signaled them to throw the flashbangs to their targets. With the guards blinded, they made their move. Faster than ever, Daryl loaded bolt after bolt into his crossbow as they made their way up and over the wall, hoping that the other side would be slow to respond.

No dice.

As soon as they landed, men hiding from under the platform rushed them. Out of flashblangs and at too close range, Daryl pulled out his gun. He barely had anytime to see how the others were doing, since people were closing in on all sides. Here they were this modpodge group of cops and robbers, one warrior princess and a hick, fighting out in the open of this little safe haven with men with larger artillery closing in on all sides. Still fighting hard, the little group found themselves pushed together when a flashbang from the other side deafened and blinded them. Daryl, disoriented, didn't want to risk the shooting of a team member, and held his fire. The last thing he remembers is being thrust to the ground with zip ties being fashioned around his wrists.

"_Fancy-ass commune can't even find handcuffs. How'n the hell did they go and get taken?"_

He awoke sometime later in a room tied to a chair with the other group members, minus Michonne, sitting in a horizontal line.

There was scuffling on the other side of the wall that sounded violent. Glenn shouted out in pain, not knowing who had come for them.

He didn't have to see him, or barely make out a word he said to know.

Merle was here.

The Glenn-voice shouted again from the other room through the paper thin walls after what sounded to be a kick into something hard. His back?

"You best not be lying, chink!" Merle shouted and the group dared not speak, but they knew too. Merle's heavy footsteps grew louder as he moved through the doorway and into the next room.

With a genuine smile and look of surprise, Merle swore loudly and rushed to Daryl.

"Little bro! You ain't dead!" Merle placed his hand and metal case next to Daryl's shoulders on the back of his chair.

"But why y'all tied up?" Feigning innocence, Merle looked to the other guards.

Rick thought it might be a good idea to say something, but since he was the one who handcuffed him, it was not the smartest idea. From what little he knew of him, Merle seemed the type of man that held one hell of a grudge, especially after what followed.

Daryl may not be some strategist, but he knew Merle was stupid as a post.

"You made it. I thought they were lying." He figured if feigning a double-cross on Rick led to his release, so be it. No matter what they're getting out alive.

"They said they told you." Merle looked down and raised his cased hand.

"They said you were dead."

"Can't trust cops, bro! They said you went back, while that bastard there left me for dead!"

"I had no idea. They told me jack. Man, why you gotta tie me up?" Rick caught on. He was smart, but didn't want to screw up whatever Daryl was planning. He was a hunter, he knew how to stalk.

"I got the chinaman and his bitch in there. Useless shits, the both of 'em. Wouldn't tell me nuthin bout where ya where."

"Why not?"

"Who gives a rat's ass?"

"Lemme go, do what you want but with them, but lemme see your hand." Before Merle made a move, he held up his mechanical hand. Well, the best mechanics one could get in a time like this.

"Y'like that, huh? They went and found me on the side of the road, not doin' so hot. Took me here 'n gave m'this." He moved to his back pocket to pull out a knife. Thankfully, the ex-prisoners knew how to keep their mouth shut, so they weren't asking stupid questions. Rick hoped he knew what Daryl was thinking. They've been travelling for too long, see and done too much with each other for his loyalties to switch so quickly, even if they were brothers.

Merle reached down and cut the ties off of Daryl's wrist and stood him up. With a remainder of a ring in his ears, Daryl wobbled slightly, but was steady as Merle crushed him in a hug.

It was one of those bone-crunching hugs you could return if you tried. Daryl's hands were pinned by his sides and his eyes bulged slightly.

"I missed ya, bro." Merle whispered, leaning down to rest his head on the shorter man's shoulder.

Daryl saw an opportunity he could not afford to waste. In the back of Merle's pants was the bulge of a switchblade. In one fluid motion, Daryl reached down, removed it, exposed the blade and bent his arm as best as he could to jab the knife into the little divot that can be found where the neck meets the skull.

Merle froze and fell slightly limp, not quite dead, but Daryl took this opportunity to twist around him to put the knife into the center of his skull.

Before the guard by the door could even react, Merle was dead on the ground and Daryl made his was to stab the eye of the armed man. After both were down, Daryl used the knife to cut the ties on the other men, who all were not expecting that result.

"Let's go get us Glenn 'n Maggie 'n get the hell outta here." Daryl was not fazed.

Not disappointed with the result, the men rushed out to the next room. Daryl trailed last, taking one last look into his brother's surprised last expression and not regretting anything.

**That was longer than expected but I am very pleased with the result! Sorry my descriptions weren't as deep as they could have been, I'm not the type of person that writes how something is described in useless and boring detail.**

**Also, yes they are brothers, but Daryl has grown, and I feel this is a summary of how far he has come as a person.  
**


	5. Lori

**For Lori, it is going to be a little more Carl-centric, because I get the feeling that Lori doesn't really like Daryl, buuutttttt just see how it goes. **

**I sort of made one up, because Daryl and Lori don't have too much in common and too many huggable moments.**

**Once again, sorry for the mixed up timeline. Now, let's all take a trip down memory lane to season two. **

**Also last night... wow. Just wow. But hey! Zipties! You saw it here first!  
**

**5.**

Lori was one of those people that couldn't be read. Her expressions, her actions, her habits all sent out different signals. Sometimes it was hard to tell where her head was since it was likely everywhere at once.

If she wasn't worrying about walkers, Rick, laundry, cooking, the baby, the rest of the group or the Sophia-hunt, she was worried about Carl.

It was _Carl this _ and _Carl that _all day every day. She didn't want to say she didn't trust her child, but she was so worried about how quickly and roughly he had to grow up these last few months.

He wants to learn to shoot, to fish, to make traps and tools, and she doesn't like all the time he spends with Daryl. When Carl isn't hounding Shane or Dale, he's with Daryl.

Carl looks up to Daryl. He thinks he's a pretty cool guy, with his crossbow and motorcycle and all. They never really talked much, but from time to time he would teach the kid a thing or two about tracking.

"If yer ma ever found out, she'd demand you tell her how teh skin game so she could skin me." Carl nodded in agreement. Whatever it took.

Then Lori started catching them catching frogs or looking for tracks when Carl should really be studying. Lori did trust Daryl, but he was as much of a kid as Carl was.

Lori quietly asked Carl to not spend as much time with him, and Carl agreed because if he pissed off his mom, Daryl would hear about it from Lori and Lori would prohibit them doing anything together at all.

They drifted. Carl worked on his tracking skills alone in the woods around the house while everyone was off doing chores and who knows what. He should've been recovering still, but now was not the time. Sophia was still gone.

Herschel made it clear that he wanted the team gone, and that meant the search would have to stop. Early that morning, Carl was up earlier than usual and saw Daryl going into the woods to likely spend the day out looking.

If Carl had only a few more chances to find his friend, he wasn't going to sit idly by. As softly as he could, he chased after Daryl.

When Daryl made his way into the tree line on foot, Carl ran faster to try and keep up. Using his tracking skills, or lack thereof, he followed Daryl at a dangerously close distance, focusing not so much as hiding and tracking, but walking swiftly and quietly.

Daryl was so determined to find the little girl, he paid no notice to the sometimes slight rustling. If a walker was after him, that would be an obvious sound. If it were some fox, it would have to wait lest it rot during the day.

This went on for at least another hour until Daryl had to circle around a down tree, making him walk back where he came. That's when he saw Carl react too slowly to his return and was finally spotted. Daryl was pissed. The kid isn't supposed to be out here! Either he take him with and get yelled at by Lori and Rick for worrying them, or he bring the boy back and lose a day of searching.

Wordlessly, Daryl lunged and grabbed the collar of Carl's shirt, amid his protests demanding his release.

"I just want to help you!" Daryl spun him around and got on his level.

"Yeah, well yer ma don't you're out here. Yer supposed teh be at camp."

With a shove and still holding on the his shirt, the two briskly made their way back to the house.

XXX

Lori was in a frenzy. Carl was gone. Usually he would say where he would be and who he would be with, but he just vanished. And not even just vanished, when she and Rick woke up, Carl was gone! Rick wasn't too worried, Daryl was gone too so they were probably together, meaning he was safe. Rick knew that Carl liked him, so he wasn't too worried. To appease his wife, however, he looked wherever her frantic voice led him.

She was in distress. She looked everywhere, alerted the house and demanded his whereabouts.

No one was too frantic, as they knew about him and Daryl, and just the fact that Carl had a habit for wandering off and worrying his mother.

It wasn't too much later though when Andrea spotted some thing- things coming out of the forest. They weren't walkers, they were moving too quickly, but through the binoculars she recognized the shape of a Daryl and a small child.

She gasped and dropped the binoculars.

"Oh my god! Oh god! Everyone! Everyone look!" She scrambled off the RV and began running, as did others when they saw what she was screaming about. They all closed in on them when their running slowed. It was not Daryl bringing Sophia, but him dragging Carl.

Thankfully, Carol was in the cellar doing inventory. To get her hopes up like that would be cruel.

Lori rushed to her son, practically ripping him from Daryl's grip, scolding him in between frantic kisses. When she finally got over herself, she sent the boy back to camp with the order of cleaning all the dishes. Carl went wordlessly, glad that his punishment was not so severe.

The group began tapering off when Lori was yelling, and only Rick and Daryl remained with the woman, who was currently muttering under her breath about teaching that boy some manners.

Rick chuckled and clapped Daryl on the shoulder, who yet still said not a word. Lori froze, remembering who brought him home. She turned to Daryl and gave him a quick squeeze around the neck. Luckily, she didn't hold on, but she still insisted upon grabbing his hand to give him an appreciation speech.

"Daryl, I should apologize. I'm really sorry I have been more mindful of where Carl is, but with Sophia gone, it's the absolute least I can do. Thank you for bringing him back right away. He probably badgered you to let him stay out there, huh?" The first chance he got, he pulled away from her hand.

"Yeah, it's fine." He side stepped around her and began walking back to the house with Rick, now his turn to grab the other man's shoulder. Lori just stood dumbfounded after such a quick resolution.

She turned around to see Rick whisper to Daryl, "Women."

Lori glared. "That's my baby, Rick! Don't you 'women' me!" Daryl smirked, happy he had absolutely no one holding him down.

…**..Yet. Well that was longer than anticipated, by like 600 words, but okay! The muses are with me today! The next one up will be in a few days, as it is the grand finale and it is only appropriate to make you all suffer a little. **

**Kidding! I send my love~**


	6. Carol

**Well, this is it. I was initially going to wait until after Sunday's episode to write this, just to see if I could use anything from the show, but then this hit me and I couldn't wait. Also, if I let myself procrastinate, it would've taken me weeks to update. Anyway, I'm not sure how long this will get, but we shall see. **

**I would like to humbly apologize for not addressing any of your kind and frankly brilliant ideas, but I had every chapter written before I posted. Maybe I can do a bonus, or even just another one-shot.**

**Thanks for reading, and I hope this is the conclusion you've been waiting for. **

**+1**

Carol is a nurturer. She loves all things, and doesn't believe that one person can be truly heartless, even Ed. Ed was possibly the largest regret of her life, but he gave her Sophia, so was it really all that bad? Or perhaps her regret was staying with Ed, and choosing to live the life of a victim. Or not. She learned so much from that experience, and while others may think otherwise, it made her strong enough to live in this wrecked world. But the thing she regrets most is leaving her job as a teacher. True, it was Ed who asked her to leave, but she agreed.

She was that teacher who you looked back on fondly as you remembered kindergarten. Never raising her voice, bringing snacks on Fridays, even putting a piano into her room, she was the most beloved staff member in her small elementary school. Carol treasured children, taking genuine interest and time to get to know each one. True they were small, but that was when the seeds were planted for a strong sense of self-identity, something Carol pushed heavily for, yet the exact thing she shamefully lost after her marriage.

Even if she couldn't teach children, she was born to raise Sophia. She did everything she could to assure Sophia would be out of harm's way. While that was easier said than done, Carol loved no one more than her daughter, and hated no one more than herself. She didn't do _enough _to get away from Ed. Hell, she couldn't if she tried! He was constantly threatening her, saying he would send his army buddies after her to drag her back.

As long as she took the brute of her husband, she could keep her child safe.

And then the plague, and then the raid and he was gone. Well, there couldn't be a more condensed summary, but who cares? Carol was free! It seems now more than ever that freedom is in short supply. Naturally, knowing her luck, this positive turn of luck couldn't last.

Sophia ran, and way down, way, way down, Carol knew she was never getting her back.

But _Daryl. _Daryl was out every single day, from dawn to dusk searching for her, risking his life for a lost cause. Pessimistic and nihilistic, perhaps, but now was not the time for delusions. She didn't buy any of the far-fetched excuses he gave, but she still appreciated the gesture nonetheless. For someone so accepting and talented at seeing the good in everyone, she was astonished at how she had categorized him in with his brother. They may have been related, but knowing Ed's brother, he seemed perfectly decent. _But so was Ed._

She shook the thought. It was done! In the past! Move on!

She cursed herself constantly for being the burdensome damsel in distress. No one said it, but she knew people thought it. The group was really good at silently judging and not even realizing it, but Carol could see it on their faces.

This time, Daryl was once again the outlier. When she saw him looking at her, she saw pity in his eyes. It didn't take long for her to put everything together, and her suspicions were confirmed after she saw his scarred back while he was recovering. She knew he knew that she knew.

After that, they seemed to get along better, finding themselves drawn towards each other in this unspoken way.

_I survived, you survived, we can do this and we don't need to do it alone_.

This carried through the winter and it grew as they learned to work together. More times than not, they found each other backing the other up. Rick taught her the ways of heavy artillery after Daryl found his crossbow too heavy for her.

He would never admit it, but seeing her wreck walkers with her modded M16 was incredibly attractive. He felt like something was building within him that made him constantly want to earn her approval, but that was always just a nagging feeling, but that day on the watch tower, feeling the heat from her gun, he knew it was more than that.

But he would never say anything.

It was sometime during the winter when it happened for her. She didn't know where the group was, since how can you be lost when you aren't going anywhere, but it didn't matter. The Georgian natives were used to a mild winter, so when the temperature dropped to freezing, it was a surprise and the group found themselves ill prepared. Sure they had sleeping bags, but they only help so much when paired with clothes that generate the fiction that generates heat.

They were in a barn, with a small fire in the center of the circle of sleeping hunters. Daryl took the first watch, as he often did, while everyone dozed off. With the temperature drop, normally thick skinned Daryl found himself shivering and nodding off faster than usual. Not bothering to fight it, he woke T-Dog and took his leave around the fire. Curled in his sleeping bag, he was still chilled. Looking around, he saw the group pressed together in various pairs so he thought nothing (maybe little) of hopping over to press his back to Carol's. Carol, too cold to sleep peacefully, felt his warmth and smiled to herself. She slowly began sharing heat and she nodded off.

In the middle of the night, she felt something jab at her back that pulled her from her dreamless sleep. As she slowly sat up, she saw that Daryl had turned to his other side, causing his arm to land carelessly on Carol's . Now it had fallen to the ground, and this woke Daryl. Realizing what had happened, he jerked away and moved farther from her. They had a moment of eye contact, and Carol offered a small, kind smile, empathetic of the innocent gesture, but he just turned away, with no harsh words or glances. This lack of response, and glimpse into the small boy who lie next to her was enough. She knew it was more than simply friendship.

But she would never say anything.

Well, she would. She's a natural joker and sarcasm flowed as smoothly as water, so her suggestions aimed toward him were all in good fun, but held more of a double meaning than she thought he would ever know. She didn't feel bad about that.

Even as time passed, and she became more bold and front, he remained clueless. She entertained the idea that he knew, but was to kind to give her a response, no matter positive or negative, but then laughed as she shooed it away, because this was Daryl Dixon and the crass man was never one to step away.

Except for once. Just once.

After the raid in the prison, when the group got separated and she was left behind, Carol found herself with only her small knife that more often than not cut into roots and squirrels than walkers. She fought as best as she could, knowing that even if she didn't make it, there would be that many fewer zombies the group would have to take care of later. Maybe she would even get to see Sophia.

So she fought, and fought and fought, ripping into eyes and skulls and just whatever she could get her hands on. It proved to be in vain, since she tired faster than the walkers. In a last, stupid and worst case scenario, she surrendered her knife into the neck of a fat inmate and took her chance by hiding in a utility closet, unaware of if the danger had passed. She fell unconscious.

She awoke in the dark and heard nothing. She was hungry, thirsty and smelled of gore, making her slightly nauseous. Too uncertain of just how much time had passed, she took not a chance at making a run, certainly since she was unarmed. Time lost meaning, and frankly she didn't know if she fell asleep or fainted from the lack of air she was getting from her filthy clothes.

She awoke next when she heard voices. This time, she was even hungrier, thirstier and weaker than before, and couldn't do much but slightly nudge at the thick metal door. Just a tiny crack of light shown through, but that was it. Thankfully this closet she jumped into was walker free.

The voices sounded familiar, but if she was delusional or dreaming she couldn't be positive. She kept nudging the door slowly. One of the voices opened up the exit slightly, took a glimpse for walkers, but never looked down to see her crouching.

Maybe it was only a dream. It was surely Rick and Daryl out on patrol, and they were never careless. They would never leave a walker just lingering. All are threats and all must be eliminated.

She slipped back asleep, this time longer than the others. She awoke and heard nothing, but her ears were beginning to ring. With her parched throat, she couldn't tell if she was hungry or if she were past that point. As long as she couldn't feel her empty stomach, she was okay with that.

Knowing it takes less than three days for dehydration to kill, she somberly went unconscious again, accepting her fate. Maybe she died a long time ago, and to move on was to accept it. With hope gone in being rescued, she closed her eyes, but smiled at the thought of being with her daughter. _Soon._

Not soon enough. She awoke once more to the shrill piercing of metal on stone. It was too short and hard to be sharpening a blade, but it was still real. She knew it was real for sure this time, that she was not actually dead, because sooner than later she found herself willing away the obnoxious sound. If she were dead, why would this unnecessary part of the _transition _be there?

In a futile effort to stop it, she began nudging the door open again. It took everything and then some, her foot failing to even stay propped up. She found herself out of breath and in pain when she forced air down her desert dry throat.

Then it was over.

The light was blinding as the door opened. She couldn't make out the figure standing above her, but she could see a raised arm, as if to attack. As her eyes adjusted, the mind of the man did as well. He lowered his knife and kneeled down.

It was Daryl. Daryl had come for her.

She gave the meekest smile she had, frankly the only one she could muster. He squatted down , knife wielding hand on one knee, the other cupping her chin. Yes, he was certainly real. She was going to survive.

She had a real knack for it.

"Carol? Oh Carol, you're alive? Are ya bit?" Daryl barely whispered, voice heavy with emotion.

She put her head back and gave the smallest sarcastic laugh she could. Daryl couldn't speak, and frankly she couldn't either.

Forgetting every ail and pain in her body, she slowly lifted herself up to a pathetic kneeling position. She faced her savior and literally swooned. She had not moved this much in hours, days, who knows. She haphazardly fell into the man, but not limply raising her arms to wrap around his waist. She buried her head into his shoulder, sobbing lightly yet no tears were falling.

It was unanticipated for him, this frail motion, but it only felt natural to tighten his grip around her waist to pull her into him, as forcefully as he could without hurting the malnourished woman. His other arm dropped the knife, her knife, and snaked up to the nape of her neck, pressing her into his arm.

He would not lose her again.

With moment of bitterness, he realized that this was the door he had walked past days ago. She could've been safe and sound, helping with Herschel and the baby, but she was in here, all because he hadn't come back to cover her, and because he didn't want to take to seconds to take out the 'walker' in the closet.

In that moment, that moment of hatred towards himself, he pressed her into him even harder, and with more intention than he had ever given forth to anyone else. He didn't think twice about adding the extra force, if she could survive this long, in this forgotten closet, she could handle his compassion, dammit!

With vigor, he scooped her up into a bridal hold in a most fluid motion and she allowed the adjustment, knowing she couldn't make it back to the cell block by herself.

In the softest, most sympathetic voice he had ever mustered, he murmured down into her big brown eyes that were staring up to him with gratitude and hope.

"Le's get ya back to the block." She closed her eyes and rested into his chest, as he made his silent but confident steps towards asylum.

They never said it, nor did they have to, but this was it for both of them, and they knew.

**XXX**

**I am really pleased with how this turned out, and I would love it if you would let me know as well! **

**If you need a fluffy Caryl pick-me-up, I suggest checking out my story 'Handy', and it can be found on my profile. Daryl gets in a practice accident and Carol has to sew up his leg. **

**Thank you all again for sticking around. This was great fun to write, and I am considering delving into another X times blank story. If you see it posted, I hope you might check it out~  
**


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